


It Hurts

by lil_bonsai



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_bonsai/pseuds/lil_bonsai
Summary: No matter how many times Italy has to see Japan suffer through an earthquake, it will never stop hurting.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	It Hurts

There weren’t many things that could make Italy glum. Especially not the serious kind. But when he placed the cold, wet cloth over Japan’s forehead, a strike of solemnity tinted his usually cheerful smile. For the last thirty minutes he had made sure that the cloth was moistened every ten minutes or so, while Germany cleaned up what was left of their dinner. During those minutes, nobody had exchanged a single word as Japan, unconscious and pale as a sheet, occupied their minds.

Italy sat on his knees next to Japan, every now and then adjusting the blanket across his small frame. With his heart threatening to burst out of his chest out of worry and concern, Italy mumbled small prayers over and over in hopes that some higher power could wake up his friend. Italy felt the cloth. It was still cold and a change was unnecessary, but sitting and doing nothing was a surefire way to make him lose his mind, which was why he took the cloth with him to the kitchen.

Cold tap water ran over Italy’s fingers as he soaked the blue piece of fabric. He was supposed to be quick since Germany had been standing there and cleaned the dishes in the first place, but the sensation of the cold water running his fingers slightly numb also numbed the worries that circulated in his head... At least a little bit. Like the nocturnal hours when nobody can expect anything from anyone in the sense of duties and responsibilities, the fact that Italy was doing something useful in this moment chained him back to keep him from confronting the source of his anxiety.

“Italy?” Germany softly asked when he realized that Italy had taken more time than necessary to soak the cloth. Also, the dishes wouldn’t exactly do themselves. Snapping back into reality, Italy cast a quick glance at Germany, before wordlessly hurrying the process. He twisted the cloth for excessive water and was about to hurry out of the kitchen when Germany gently grabbed his wrist, and hoped he only needed to use his eyes to ask if there was anything he could do to soothe his worries. Without any sort of acknowledgement of this other than a slight halt in movements, Italy withdrew his arm and exited the kitchen.

Once on his knees, Italy carefully laid the cloth onto Japan’s head yet again, and he could swear that Japan’s eyes had twitched under the eyelids. Anticipating and hopeful, Italy stayed completely still for nearly a minute thinking that Japan might be on the way to wake up. But when it didn’t happen, Italy’s shoulders sunk again, and he moved the blanket a few centimeters up. Once more he fell into a spiral of silent mantras to God as he looked at the now clean kotatsu in his living room. Just recently it had been gifted to him from Japan, something Italy had wanted for the longest time. Day after day Italy had invited friends over to show off the brilliance that was the kotatsu, to sleep under and to cook meals over. The most frequent visitors were his brother and Spain, mostly because Spain had invited himself over and dragged a hesitant, but secretly rejoicing, Romano with him. Ever since the kotatsu had found its rightful place in Italy’s living room, it had been nothing but a source of socialization and delight. But looking at it in this moment, all he could think of was the unconscious Japan.

When Italy was about to take the cloth again for a new and unneeded round of water, Germany seemed to have finished cleaning.

“I don’t think it’s necessary to soak it so frequently,” Germany commented from the doorframe, trying not to sound accusing. Italy immediately withdrew his hand. Usually Germany was straightforward and was presumably surrounded by idiots, but because of Italy and Japan, he too had learned to care for his friends’ well-being and emotions.

He sat down on his knees next to Italy and observed whatever of Japan that wasn’t hidden underneath a blanket; His face had started to look ashen-gray, dried tears had gathered in the crooks of his eyes, and while his face was almost as good as clean, the chest of his kimono was still completely stained with blood. Germany sighed.

“I am glad Japan told us how to deal with this.” Agreeing with the statement, Italy nodded and put his hands in his lap without taking his eyes off of them. He wanted to speak but his words got caught in his throat, and his lips sealed before a single of them got out. Italy was always so vocal about his thoughts, but when his mind got plunged into the less discovered territory of urgency and seriousness, it was as if his cheerfulness held his words back by a leash.

Italy felt a slight weight on his hands and noticed the bigger hand of Germany, slightly awkwardly, covering his. “Are you thinking about what happened in 2011?” the taller of the two asked, and suddenly his hand was tightly enclosed. 

“I don’t like how Japan has to go through this as if it’s normal,” Italy whispered quietly enough that Germany almost couldn’t tell that his voice was shaking. “It  _ hurts. _ ”

“The first time this happened, we barely knew Japan and he used to be so private,” Germany replied. Six years of friendship is usually a long time to learn about someone. But to nations, whose lives are stretched into hundreds, perhaps  _ thousands _ , of years, six years go by in a flash. Deciding to take charge of the conversation so Italy could have something to actively focus on other than the blood on Japan’s kimono, Germany started speaking his own mind.

“He always said it was fine, because every now and then we’d question him about his trembling hands. And as a result, when the earthquake in 1946 hit, we had no idea how to react.” Germany let his watch float around the room as he spoke, occasionally catching sight of Japan’s phone screen which was constantly bombarded with messages.

“I used to be so annoyed at how he insisted that “there’s nothing you can do to help when they happen” because I thought it was an act of toughness, and that perhaps he wanted to deal with it himself.” Germany let a defeated smile show on his face. “I wasn’t happy to realize that there really is nothing we can do.”

In his head, he replayed the terrifying day in march, 2011, when Japan had suddenly started sputtering blood all over the place. Japan had been mentioning a light headache a few hours prior, along with a witnessed nosebleed, but had dismissed it as “This happens very often, please do not worry”. During dinner as Italy rambled about a certain prime minister, Japan had politely excused himself to the bathroom, but didn’t even make it to the end of the living room before he stopped in his tracks and made a gulping sound. Italy and Germany had halted their conversation to check up on their friend, but before long Japan had covered his mouth and nose with his hands, blood flooding all over them. Following that, he had clutched his head in agony as he kept coughing up blood, made strange sounds as he refused to scream and cause a scene, and muttered “Tohoku” repeatedly until he started gasping for air. Loss of breath was a sign that a tsunami had hit land, and the way Japan had fallen to unconsciousness many painful minutes later, signified that a large scale of landmass and inhabitants had been wiped out.

Today was certainly not as grave as that of 2011, but seeing as the only European country that laid dangerously by (or  _ on _ ) a tectonic plate was Iceland, whom neither Germany nor Italy had much contact with, witnessing a dear friend suffer so much had them awfully ill at ease. The absolute worst part was that all they could do was watch, and only tend to him when he had blacked out completely.

…

An hour or so later, a round of Elfern was interrupted when Italy shouted “ _ His eyes are open! _ ”, then dropping all of his cards onto the table and rushing to Japan’s side, kneeling down. Unfocused, Japan’s unresponsive eyes searched for something to look at as the blurriness of his vision slowly stabilized. Almost all up in his face was Italy whose curl was tickling his nose. Germany approached slowly from the other side, also kneeling down.

“How are you, Japan?” Germany asked calmly, fixing the slightly fallen cloth to cover the center of Japan’s forehead. Japan laid in a daze for a little while longer, trying his best to look away from Italy’s huge, golden eyes that were only a few inches away. Slowly, Japan tried to sit up, which ended in success with help from his friends that, in their ever so characteristic ways, cared so for him.

The three sat in silence as they heard the dishwasher run in the background.

“I’m sorry for any concern I’ve caused you,” Japan started, his demeanor seeming a bit absent-minded, “But I must know how the others are doing.” Italy was quick to fetch Japan’s phone, flopping down on his knees again and eagerly handing it to him. Japan took his phone in his hands and checked the infinite notifications from his group chats; “ _ PACIFIC RING OF FAYAAAH” _ where most of the texts were America showing concern for his friends on the other side of the Pacific tectonic plate, and  _ “philippine plate gang” _ in which Indonesia and the Philippines were texting among themselves whether Japan was okay. Otherwise there were ordinary messages of worry from China, England and South-Korea among others.

“Some of your friends called me about you,” Germany said in hopes to ease Japan up a little, “It seems that you were the only one who suffered this badly. The others are doing fine.” Japan looked at Germany, and Germany could swear he felt his heart warm and soften up when he saw the pain and worry in Japan’s eyes convert to relief, content and gratefulness.

“Thank goodness,” Japan muttered and put his phone away, something Italy interpreted as a greenlight that he was fine again, so he pounced onto Japan and made sure to hug him tightly.

  
“Oh, Japan, I was  _ so  _ worried! _ ”  _ Italy wailed as the waterworks started flooding, signifying that Italy was back to his usual, expressive self. Japan would generally have abstained from such invasion of personal space, but after such violent earthquakes occurred and the last thing he recalled before blacking out was hoping that he’d be alive after this, he didn’t mind a hug too much.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder how natural catastrophes affect the characters...


End file.
